


The Old Piano Roll Blues

by Spaceytrash



Series: Ideas from Tumblr [4]
Category: Avenue 5 (TV)
Genre: Divorce, Drinking, Feelings, Gen, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Piano, Sad, piano playing, sad piano playing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:02:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23044450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spaceytrash/pseuds/Spaceytrash
Summary: After getting his divorce papers served to him, Ryan tries to mellow his feelings by playing his piano.
Series: Ideas from Tumblr [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1418533
Comments: 1
Kudos: 16





	The Old Piano Roll Blues

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by aziraphale-is-ace's [post](https://aziraphale-is-ace.tumblr.com/post/611522373010800640/theres-only-2-episodes-left-of-avenue-5-and-ryan) on tumblr. 
> 
> Seriously that Ryan hasn't played his piano is a crime and wanting to rectify that while listening to sad music created this little fic.

What a shite end to an already crappy day. Not only does he now need to learn how to dock the ship in 6 bloody months, a task pretty much undoable especially for a crappy alcoholic actor turned captain, no he also got served with his divorce papers. The currently more hurting dilemma of his nowadays shitty life.

Captain Ryan Clark took a large gulp of his whiskey, while continuing to wallow in self-pity. At least it was a good one, thank heavens that Judd hadn’t spared a cent on the alcoholic beverages, his weird milk cocktails excluded. He was already on his fifth glass and he was starting to really feel the dulling and buzzing effect of the alcohol. Which was a good start to the state of utter insobriety, where nothing mattered except the next glass and everything felt dull and painless, he wanted to achieve.

Getting the divorce papers had been as much of a shock as the news itself. Especially since he had begged his husband and wife to give him another chance. To not let this one blasted job, destroy all the good times and happiness they have had together. But of course, thanks to the communications block, the message hadn’t gone through and he got served with the damn papers that ended his hopes and dreams, his life as he knew it and the happiness he had known until today.

It wasn’t that he really was that surprised it had happened. The second they had told him that they wanted to thrivorce him, he knew there was no real chance to prevent it. Once Stan and Cris had set their minds on something, it was pretty much impossible to change that. He had loved that about them, but now that it was working against him, he really hated it.

And it wasn’t like they hadn’t been in a rough patch before he went on board of Avenue 5. His previous job and time in space away from them, his alcohol consummation and general tiny problems had already mounted up before and especially he and Stan had butted heads more often than he liked. This job was supposed to have been a short break and chance to cool down for them all and not the already last straw in their already strained relationship.

“Fuck this,” he cursed and swallowed the rest of his drink.

In his mind he could see the disapproving faces of his spouses. They always hated it when he drank. With good reason, mind. His alcoholism had already almost destroyed their relationship once before. Back in the time where his wine trade hadn’t seemed fulfilling anymore and he had no clue how to get his certain sense of agency and happiness back. He had chosen to silent his doubts and fears with the numerous wine bottles he owned, and all it had done was making him angry and drunk. Almost destroying the last shred of happiness, he had had back then. His relationship. Once they had set him down in a kind of intervention and threatened to leave him, did he realize what a problem his drinking had become. He had almost stopped completely and only picked up a bottle when he had been feeling really down. Now, stuck on this bloody ship with too many problems and responsibilities he shouldn’t have his consummation had almost tripled again.

Well he had already lost his marriage, so why stoop with the alcohol now? When it so lovingly dulled the pain in his heart.

He filled his glass once again, glancing around the room while taking a sip, before his eyes landed on the piano. He hadn’t played since they got the news of being stuck in space for way longer than anticipated, not having been in the mood at all. Arguably he hadn’t played a lot before that either, preferring to do so in the audience of his spouses and not alone.

Sitting down on the bench, he put his glass on top of it, ignoring the ring of water that already started to stain the otherwise stainless top. The memory of happier times at his piano at home invading his mind. All the loving evenings he had spent playing songs for Stan and Cris, while they were all nursing glasses of some of his better wines, feeling comfortable and loved. The warmth of their old school fireplace, that Cris had insisted on buying, warming them from the outside and their love from the inside.

Sighing he opened the key cover and let one hand slide over the keys, his fingers feeling the smooth texture and little spaces between. His other hand reached for his glass again, taking another sip, before placing it back. The last time he had played had been after a short call with his spouses, a few days before the gravitation shift. It was a happier time and he had stuck to older popular songs, like Minnie the Moocher. But now he didn’t feel like playing anything remotely like that. His life had shifted, and his music needed to express that.

Watching his hand slide over the keys, he thought about what to play. What he wanted to play that would maybe even help him find some kind of catharsis but couldn’t think of a single song. Maybe he should just play, let his fingers decide what to do. It was something he rarely did, preferring to play with notes and directions knowing it would sound okay as long as he hit the right keys. The uncertainty of free playing always sitting uncomfortably with him, but it certainly did fit the situation he found himself in. So maybe just for today he would let his mind wander and his fingers play of their own accord.

Slowly he started pressing some keys, letting their sounds fill his empty room. Just some single tones, not yet moving on to creating actual melodies. He was trying to think of nothing, of the melody he wanted to play but his mind refused and returned to the memory of his spouses. Of how beautiful they had looked on their wedding day, how all three of them had celebrated the happiest day of their life. How he would never celebrate their anniversary with them again. Pain once more stabbed his heart at that thought. It really hurt to know they would live on together, celebrate their wedding together, only this time without him. Maybe finding someone else along the lines to replace the missing piece in their relationship.

His fingers now moved onto different keys without thought, both hands playing separately, bolting out a melody that at first didn’t seem to fit completely together but at a second glance created a sombre and sad melody. Some out of range tunes between, fitting the unease and uncomfortableness he felt inside since all the shit had hit the fan.

Closing his eyes, he let the music fill his mind, hoping it would chase away the memories, and it did. His hands moved a bit faster and securer, the sounds now surer and clearer than before.

The music filled his room and mind for a while, before he slowly let the tone subside, get silent and stop completely. He opened his eyes again and reached for his drink, emptying it. His body had relaxed while playing, the music having soother his hardened muscles, and he felt lighter than before. Grateful to having found at least a bit of the peace he had hope to find in the sounds of the piano and his heart.

With another sigh, he got up from the bench and moved to his bed. It was time to try to get some sleep. If the past few days were any indication, he would need all the energy he could get, for the next day would surely just bring another problem into the life of Ryan Clark. 


End file.
